Here for You
by cloudlake
Summary: While in exile, Thorin hides his identity in the Blue Mountains from all the the dwarves. What if sharing the secret with someone can give him the confidence he needs to truly lead his people? Friendship fluff. Back story - before "The End is Where we Begin". Rated T for inferred violence.
1. Chapter 1

Each clang of the hammer hitting the iron bar on the anvil is another reminder that he isn't where he belongs. Forging blades for others, instead of being able to craft beautiful items to add to his family's treasury. Someday, he will leave this place and retake his home again.

...

After her daily bakery deliveries, she loves to take a peek into the dwarven smithy and watch him. His work is unmatched, every blow of the hammer seems to ring with a determined purpose. But he keeps to himself and he seems so alone. The rumors she hears in town, do nothing but increase her curiosity.

Today, she's made up her mind she'll be brave enough to talk to him. She pulls out a loaf of the heavy hearty bread that is so popular among his people. It's wrapped carefully in waxed parchment and a square of her favorite fabric.

Hugging the bread to her, she steps into his domain. He looks up and politely says the shop is closed, if she has anything for him to work on he'll get to it in the morning.

She shyly holds out her bread in an offering, "I watch you every day, I don't think the people here appreciate your work enough."

"Ye drive a hard bargain for bread lass, how much do I owe ye?" Thorin asks happy to hear the compliment, but unable to really accept it as he puts his tools away for the day.

Her face falls a bit for a moment, but she rallies and shyly twirls her silver blond hair in her free hand. "N...nothing. I just wanted you to know, you're not alone. I lost my home too."

He hesitantly takes the bread, lifting it in thanks and opens it to tear off a piece to taste. It does remind him of home, and he tries to not let the shadow of memories cross his face. It's been decades since he tasted bread like this in Erebor.

She can see his change in mood though, "Sorry for taking your time," and she starts to make for the exit.

"Will ye bring an order for my kin and I tomorrow? They'd be appreciative," he requests unsure if he needs someone poking around in his past. But his sister Dis and his nephews get so few treats and reminders of home.

She brightens and nods as she leaves and looks forward to seeing him again tomorrow.

...

The next day she patiently waits by the door for the last customer to leave. This one is shouting because he wants his horse shod today and Thorin just said his shop was closed. A brawling match ensues. She steps back just as the would be customer is unceremoniously ejected from the shop. He nurses his jaw and spits, "You dwarves think you're better than everyone else! You're not! You're just short and stupid ingrates! I'll take my horse across town!"

The door slams shut so hard that the window cracks and the little door bell rings, signaling the end of the match.

She nervously opens the door just a tad and it creaks giving her away.

"I said the shop's closed!" Thorin growls with his back to her, leaning on his forge.

In her gentlest voice she whispers as she sets the bread order inside the door, "I'll just leave these here. You can pay me tomorrow."

He pinches he bridge of his nose to help him focus, "No. No. I'll pay ye today. I'm just not fit to be around anyone right now."

She smiles in sympathy as she unwraps a small dark cake, "I have something for you to try today Mr. Oakforge. Hopefully we came close with the recipe, so it can bring a little cheer."

After motioning her in and handing her the coins, he takes the offered dessert. It has a little crown dusted onto the top and smells just like the anise cakes that his family had in the feast hall. His surprised look is just what she was hoping for.

"Why this?" He asks pointing to the crown.

"I'm pretty sure Dalith Oakforge isn't your real name. If you're really who I think you are, I wanted you to have a little something special to know that many of us look up to you - despite what a few of the pompous idiots in town say."

"Just who do ye think I am?" he lets his suspicion show.

She shuffles nervously, "Well...I'm betting you're Thorin Oakensheild the exiled king..." He looks away, as she continues, "I'm right aren't I?"

She steps into his line of sight and gives a little encouraging smile, "Don't let anyone look down on you, ok?"

"So this is common knowledge?" he looks down then back up at her with what she thinks might be a tinge of sadness.

"I don't think so. It's taken me a while to piece lore and the old rumors of when you came here together. Lore is the hardest part. It's particularly hard to find someone who will share it. Your people sure keep to themselves."

He seems to breathe a sigh of relief.

"You really don't want anyone to know, do you?" His stern shake of the head speaks volumes, as he sets the cake down with his soot covered hands and goes back to cleaning up the smithy.

"I can keep a secret. The last thing you need is that twit Boln that you kicked out of the shop knowing!"

"Ye saw that, did ye?" he turns back with a wary raised eyebrow.

A giggle emanates from her and she covers her mouth as she nods, "He deserved it. You're the first to stand up for yourself. Boln tries to push around every shop keeper. I'm glad you did it."

His ever so slight smirk is a wonderful reward for her efforts today.

"I'll check with you tomorrow to see how you like the cake." She picks up her delivery basket and leaves him to his clean up.

He quietly wonders if it's worth the risk of staying to have his first ally in this town, aside from his kin.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day a she's making her way to the smithy, she hears a ruckus down the street and Thorin's voice in the shouting. Her legs automatically start running and she pushes her way through the growing crowd in front of his shop.

"Mr. Oakforge!" she shouts as the guards hold him down and bind his hands behind him. The rude man from yesterday looks on with extreme satisfaction.

He looks at her pleadingly, "Git Dwalin."

"Where?"

The guards lift him up to his feet, none too gently and he quickly speaks, "Boar's Tusk."

One guard barks, "I told you ta be quiet!" and punches Thorin in the gut.

In a flash she's running again, afraid the guards might try to stop her. She heads deeper into the dwarven section of town. The folk here don't take kindly to being intruded upon and it takes a while for her to find the alehouse Thorin mentioned.

Rowdy drinking songs can be heard from the outside. How in the world will she be able to be heard over this? She gathers her courage and steps in. The barkeep is passing pints down the bar as fast as he can fill them. He's the key here.

She endures the glares and walks up to the barkeep, "I need to find Dwalin. Mr. Oakforge needs him immediately."

The stout round grey bearded dwarf points to a group of assorted dwarves, "The bald one Miss." She's surprised at his instant answer, but heads where he directed.

"Mr. Dwalin?" she looks nervously up at the older very burly bald dwarf with tatoos on his head and hands.

"Aye. At yer service. Now why would a human lass be askin for me for in an alehouse?"

"Mia. At yours." she curtsies before letting the words tumble out of her mouth, "Mr. Oakforge, sir. He's been arrested. He said to find you," tears are starting to brim in her eyes.

"There, there lassie. I need ye ta tell me all ye know. Dori. Balin. With me. Let's take this outside" he tries to comfort her and direct the group to a place where they can hear her better.

She tells them of what she saw today and the day before.

"Well, it looks like our laddie has gotten himself in a spot of trouble. Thank ye Miss. Balin will escort ye home." Dawlin tries to smile in appreciation for her help.

"I'm coming with you. Boln is a vengeful one. He can be dangerous. I won't be any safer at home and I am the best witness Dalith has," she insists.

Dwalin looks to the others and they shrug. It's the closest to approval as she'll get.

...

At the prison, the group's mood is extremely somber. The dwarves instinctively walk with her in the middle to protect her.

Dwalin inquires about Thorin's arrest. He finds out the charge is assault of a noble and the trial is set for two days from now. With a small bribe of gold and bread, the small group is allowed to visit the prisoner.

Thorin appears to be docilely resting with his head on his arms and one of his legs tucked up under them for support, but he looks up with relief as they arrive.

Quiet murmurs between them let Thorin know the details of his current predicament. Dwalin adds, 'Lad, we wouldn't have known until much later if you hadn't sent Miss Mia to find us."

"So that's yer name..." Thorin looks to her.

"Glad to be at your service," she manages a nervous little smile.

"My nephews devoured the cake yesterday before I could even get a bite, by the way," he continues as if nothing is really wrong and this just everyday conversation time.

She tries to stifle her giggle by covering her mouth with her hands. It seems to out of place here. But it makes her glad to know the cake was appreciated by his family.

They move on to plans for the next day and whether or not the judge may be a fair one. Mia adds in a whisper, "Let me ask my master, the baker. He knows everyone in town. There isn't a shopkeeper in town that Boln hasn't been troublesome to."

The guard gives them a warning that the visit is almost up and she inquires,"Have they fed you anything?"

He shakes his head and she pulls out another bread and cake from her basket, "Last ones. You can have them all to yourself."

...

Dwalin and Balin let the baker know they're taking Mia in to their custody for her protection over the next few days. She's the only witness they have. She and Balin work on their network of contacts in the town to find as much support for Thorin as they can muster, and visit him to take him food. The meager gruel served once a day isn't even palatable.

The morning of the trial date, Mia and Balin visit one last time to share the news of all the merchants gathering at the trial to bring complaint against Boln. But Thorin's dark mood stops them in their tracks as he bemoans, "Why are ye bothering? I'm just one dwarf in a town that doesn't want me or my kin."

Mia blinks in disbelief and looks at Balin who puts a hand on Thorin's shoulder. "Laddie, Miss Mia and I have been working hard to garner support for your case. Ye'll be surprised at how much you have."

Thorin's funk is really deep and turns his back to them trying to cut off the conversation, "I've seen the trials before, there's a serious bias against our people. The nobles here lord it over us all the time. I do na stand a chance. Just go home."

Her mouth is agape and fury starts to replace her shock. She finally breaks the silence by stomping over to face him and slapping him up side the face.

Balin interjects, "Stop!" as he grabs her wrist a little to late to stop her. His grip is crushing her hand as he wraps his other arm around her to pull her back as she resists him. Despite her struggle she manages to yell at Thorin, "Stop feeling sorry for yourself! Your people need you to lead them! And the shop keepers need your confidence to stand up to Boln! They're rallying to your side. You have a chance here to do more good than you know! This pathetic wallowing is below you! Stop it NOW!"

When she's vented and stops struggling, Balin loosens his grip on her but growls in her ear before letting her go, "Do na do lay a hand on him again." As she catches her breath she nods.

Thorin's hand is still on his red cheek and his look grows hard, "Why ye..."

Balin steps between Mia and Thorin, "She's right though lad. Everyone will be there to rally behind ye. Acting so sullen will git ye nowhere. There is much support for ye. Make us proud by carrying yerself with the nobility that runs in yer veins."

Thorin rallies in a moment and clasps his hands behind his back and resigns himself, "Very well."

Mia meekly hands him the lunch and change of clothes she packed, "I...I'm sorry. I just couldn't handle watching you sulk. So much weighs on today."

He accepts the bundle, but remains silent.

"Keep your chin up, ok?" she tries to encourage him. The guard says their time is up.

"Strange way to show support, girl..." he mumbles as he starts to open the food and the others are lead out.

As she and Balin get a few blocks away from the prison, Balin brings up what's on his mind. "Lass he needed to hear what ye said. But if ye knew what he is to us, ye would na ever do that again."

She looks apologetically to Balin, "I do know... I still can't believe I did it. Here I am just a peasant girl. He's never been slapped before has he?"

"Na, but by his sire when his was a bairn."

"Oh, my..."

"Do na worry yerself now...Knowing him, it will just rile him up enough to bring him back to his senses." Balin comforts her. And her returned look says that she hopes so.


	3. Chapter 3

Thorin is led, with his hands bound, into the packed courtroom. He tries to walk with dignity despite the humiliation of his bonds. Every shop keeper and dwarf in town seems to have come. It's standing room only. He spots Mia, Dwalin and Balin all sitting with Dis and his nephews. Then there's Boln with his annoying smug look. Thorin glares at him.

As the session starts it's difficult to hear even though everyone is trying to be quiet.

"Dalith Oakforge, you stand accused of assaulting a nobleman. Is this true?"

Thorin's eyes harden, but he remains calm in his demeanor, "He demanded service of my shop after hours and threw a punch when I would na shoe his horse at that instant. My punch was second and it knocked him out the shop door."

The judge quickly puts down Boln's lying protest. The booing and shouting takes a while to quiet.

"So you hit the lord in defense?"

"Aye," Thorin responds almost defiantly.

"Is there a witness that can attest to his story?"

Mia stands and confidently states, "Me, your honor."

"What is your name child?"

"Mia Greene, sir. It's true. I was delivering bread to Mr. Oakforge's shop just at the moment I heard, then saw Lord Boln trying to bully Mr. Oakforge into the task after his shop was closed. The fight ensued with the lord's attack first. The second was Mr. Oakforge's and it did send the lord out the shop and onto his duff."

The crowd's gafaws at Boln's expense just enrage him. Then someone shouts, "He uses his position to bully and steal from us all! We won't sell to him anymore!" and the roaring crowd can not be quieted. Guards are called forward to keep the people back.

Rapping the gavel repeatedly the judge scolds the crowd, "Order in the court NOW, or I will have you all ejected!" Silence finally falls, so the judge can speak again, "Mr. Oakforge, I am dropping the case against you. I have never seen such a crowd of support in this courtroom. But you Lord Boln, the courts will be investigating the accusations of theft and it will go before the King. We do not tolerate stealing from our people or using your position to waste the court's time. You will be placed under house arrest. Get your affairs in order. I suspect the line for complaints against you will be quite long..."

Thorin is set free and the crowd erupts with cheers over the victory as Thorin is hugged practically to death by family and friends, at the same time Boln is lead out by guards and muttering threats.

...

At Thorin and Dis' house, the party goes long into the night. Beyond the celebrations, a bit of serious planning takes place. Boln had threatened to burn the smithy and the bakery as he was lead out. Thorin, Mia and those near them will need to be guarded until Boln is out of the picture completely.

Thorin pulls Mia aside, "Ye were brave enough to be witness for me. And Balin said you organized all the shopkeepers to rally for me. I can na thank ye enough." With a chuckle he continues, "No wonder ye were so put out with me for being hopeless. Ye are an orphan living with your master, no? Good as he is to you and as talented as he is at baking, he is still poor. The House of Durin will ensure ye have a dowry." He puts a hand on her cheek, and she hugs him fiercely in gratitude and relief that he forgave her, but he's not comfortable enough to return her embrace.

"It's not everyday a peasant can help a king...I am at your service, always," she barely manages in a whisper.

...

Balin escorts her home in the morning. While they walk, he uncomfortably brings up a subject he'd rather not have to talk about. But it fell to him when they drew straws in the back room. He clears his throat and it gets her attention, "The lads and I were well, just wondering...''

She waits for him to gather the words he needs to find.

"Well, ye see. We've seen you look at him. We suspect.." he blows out a breath finding this very difficult, "We suspect ye have an attachment to him."

It catches her off guard, but she nods and blushes, "Yes, I suspect so too. Ever since I first saw him working at the smithy."

"Ye know he's not looking for a wife..."

She sighs sadly, "I know... and even if he was, the first three reasons against me would be about how I'm not a dwarf and the next three would have to do with my obvious lack of notable lineage. He can't be held back by a human peasant like me."

In relief and compassion, he puts his arm around her as they walk. "Yer a fine, fine lassie. By my beard, there'll be a good lad out there for ye. Being in the public eye today will likely have lads lining up to court ye."

"Balin, all I want from him is to be allowed to be near him. I told him I was at his service always. It wasn't just a saying to be said in politeness. If I can't be the one, I want to support him. He will lead you all back to your homeland someday. I want to be able to say, I was there for him way back when."

Balin squeezes her shoulder, "Are ye really sure ye do na have dwarven blood?"

She learns her head on his shoulder as they walk and giggles at the compliment, "Yeah."

When they are out of the dwarven quarter, Balin brings up one more thing that's has been pricking his curiosity since he first met Mia, "Lassie, where did ye learn to make those anise cakes?"

"Oh, there was a dwarf who seemed to especially miss them..."

"Do ye know his name?"

She racks her brain as she thinks, "I should. He introduced himself that day. He's quiet, quite rotund, ginger haired, and has a very long beard that he splits in half and braids into a loop."

Balin chuckles. "I should have guessed that Bombur would miss them so much."

"Yes, that's his name! And those cakes have brought in more business from your people than we've ever seen! Master says we may have to hire more help."

"Good! They're a taste of home and bring us a bit of comfort here in our exile. Our wives and mothers would only make those cakes every Durin's Day. The bairn in each of us is glad to see them more often. Be prepared for Durin's Day - there'll be big orders."

As they near the bakery, Balin is the first to notice and he stops walking, "Lassie..."

"What is it Balin?" she asks as the sees the concern on his face.

Guessing her reaction, he takes her hand and asks, "Do ye smell smoke?"

The blood drains from her face, "Master!" She off like a gazelle practically dragging Balin behind her.

When they reach the bakery, they see the broken windows and the front of the building engulfed in flames. The neighbors who are awake are helping to try to put out the blaze or running to get help.

Mia leads Balin around to the back entrance, and she calls out, "Master Griff! Master Griff!" The bakers hoarse coughing helps them home in on him as he's pinned under a beam. Old Balin is able to deftly lift it and let Mia pull Griff out. Then he puts the baker over his shoulder, and winces hearing the cries of pain coming from the poor man and as the three of them head for safety.

Outside they can see Griff is in considerable pain and he must have several broken ribs. But he insists on telling them what he knows. It was Boln, his horse's saddle had his house's markings and a few others were with him. Griff tried to put out the fire from the alcohol bottles, but there was flour everywhere from the frantic baking. He'd expected a large crowd for his goods when he opened. He'd even used the front counters for his baking. Something he'd never done - but that's why he saw the attack. The flour everywhere caught on fire so fast!

Balin notices a dwarf among those helping. He pulls him aside and has him fetch help from the dwarven quarter.

In surprisingly short time the thud of many heavy boots and the metallic clink of mail and weapons is heard coming near them. Mia sees Thorin in his mail and helmet, with his double bladed axe slung over his shoulder as he leads the throng of dwarves. He quickly barks out orders to divide the group. The majority will stay to help with the salvage operation and see what can be done to get the bakery going again as quickly as possible. A few healers peel off and attend Griff and those burned as they put out the fire. Thorin will lead the last group to hunt down Boln and bring him to justice.

After orders are given, Thorin checks on Mia and Griff. She runs up to hug him and he returns it this time after putting down his battle axe, "Mia are ye ok? How is Master Griff?" As she tells him, her tears finally start as the shock wears off. He put his cheek on the top of her head and strokes her hair, "We WILL find Boln. Until he is found and Master Griff is recovered, ye and your master will stay with my sister. All will be good again." Her embrace tightens for a moment, then she gathers herself and steps away with a smile to show her gratitude.

The watch shows up just before Thorin and company can start the search and tells them to go home. Thorin stubbornly insists he will help with the search and convinces the watch that Boln can be found faster if both groups work together. The dwarves will go north and the watch, south.


	4. Chapter 4

The night watch has just sounded the 2am alls well for the town, as Thorin's group marches up to the prison carrying a wriggling, blood smeared sack. The constable admits them and Thorin dumps open the sack, spilling out a gagged and hog tied, very beat up Boln. Thorin's boot pushes into Boln's shoulder and neck painfully, pinning him down.

"The others are dead. This one had to come to justice," Thorin reports and Dwalin drops the crests from their houses onto the desk, while Boln is dragged off to a cell.

"Thank you. He'll be dealt with severely. Won't likely leave here again," the constable admits and reaches out to shake Thorin's hand.

Returning the gesture Thorin lets the constable know there's a bit of trust building between the humans and dwarves now, "If I did na think there would be justice, I'd have simply killed him and dumped him at yer gate. Now that I've seen that our peoples can get along, I brought him to ye."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a sack of coins tossed across the room and hears a mumbled, "Told you the dwarves would find him first..." Dwalin notices the bet too and roughly pats Thorin on the shoulder as they head back to their homes to rest.

...

Balin is the only one awake at Thorin's house, since he and Dori were tasked with helping and guarding the household. "Welcome back, laddie. How'd the hunt go?"

"Successful. How are Mia and Griff?" Thorin responds in his short but not unfriendly manner and sits on the bench to clean his weapon.

"Resting. Master Griff has 4 broken ribs and will na be able to help with the bakery for an extended time. Our people are looking for a place to rebuild the bakery. Mia wouldn't leave Griff's side and tried to wait up for ye."

"I would have liked to tell her that's she's safe, before I fall into bed," Thorin admits too tired to keep his thoughts to himself.

"Laddie, we need to talk...about Mia," Balin sighs and Thorin shoots him a stern look, so he continues, "If ye haven't noticed, she's in love with ye. Do na play with her by encouraging her affections. In her head she knows she can na be the one for ye - she even told me so. But I'm not sure it will be so easy to tell her heart and ye just swooped in and saved the day for her..."

Thorin puts down his now clean axe, and puts his elbow on his knee, and rests his head on his palm, "Nothing is simple is it?" Balin doesn't answer but walks over and puts a hand on Thorin's shoulder and Thorin murmurs, "Balin...I'm fond of her too..."

Mia silently steps into the room in her robe. Thorin sees her bare feet come into view and feels her hand caress the back of his head. "I know" she whispers sniffling, "I realized it when you held me today..."

Balin shakes his head and moves to another room to let them talk.

Thorin pats the bench beside him and he takes her hand as she sits, "I do na want ye to just disappear from my life."

She leans on his arm, wipes the tears from her eyes, and tries to lighten the mood, "You can't get rid of me that easily..."

Her teasing wins her a small smile from him as he squeezes her hand and says, "Good."

"More seriously though, I was awake thinking through what I CAN be to you. Your people need you to be strong. Someday you'll lead them back to your home. I can be here by your side as your supporter, confidant or a champion for lack of a better word, while you learn to believe in yourself the way I believe in you. Every king needs someone there to give them a good cussing out sometimes too. Your people are so noble and reverent, they won't do it. "

"And that's something ye'd enjoy?" Thorin looks at her with an eyebrow raised.

She softly punches his arm with her free hand, "The last part? Not really. After our last meeting in the prison, I couldn't believe I cussed out a king and slapped you ta boot."

"I needed to hear it, but I'd rather do with out being slapped again..."

She lets out a snort of laughter, "Understood...I thought Balin was going to break my wrist."

Mirth is in his eyes when he replies, "I was surprised he did na. If ye could have seen the shock on his face when he missed yer hand..." Shaking the memory from his head and focusing again, "So ye truly want this?"

"If you'll let me, your majesty..."

He stands, still holding her hand and motions for her to kneel, "To be best accepted among my people, you'll need a dwarven name. Mia Green Stoutheart, rise and be trusted counselor to Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain son of Thror, King of the Dwarves in the Blue Mountains," he pulls her up by the hand he still holds. "I'm grateful for your choice. My people are setting up yer new bakery across the street from my smithy, they'd like you to focus on the foods that remind us of home. Ye became dear to me so quickly, I did na know how I'd handle it."

She beams at the news, pulls her hand from his and tucks a stray lock of hair behind his ear before heading back to her room, "I'm grateful to still be allowed to be by your side. Now...your counselor's first recommendation is to get some rest while there is still time to do so. Today will be a busy day. Good night, my king..."

"Kings don't always heed counsel..." Thorin quips because he doesn't want to be told what to do right now.

She doesn't turn around but giggles, "I know..."


	5. Chapter 5 - Prologue

Thorin and Mia's friendship grew very, very close. It inspired others and the two continued to work at building peace between the humans and dwarves. It did wonders for his confidence to continue lead and be an example to the dwarves.

Master Griff slowed down considerably and handed the bakery over to Mia. Bombur helped her with the recipes in her new bakery. Thorin's household took turns helping to get the bakery going until she could find the right help.

It took a while for men to be brave enough to start courting Mia. It had been assumed that she and Thorin were a couple because of how close they were. It took them both insisting to others that they respected the dwarven traditions and were only friends. Thorin even scared a few of her suitors off, when he'd insist on interviewing each man that showed interest in her. He wouldn't let just anyone have her. She also waited until she felt Thorin was confident enough to not need her counsel as much anymore and he started talking of Erebor. Finally a man named Brin came into her life that swept her off her feet and would treat her as she deserved. He was happy to be around dwarves and helped Mia run the bakery.

At the wedding when asked "Who gives this woman?" On one side Mia heard, "Griff the Baker" and on the other, "Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror, King of the Dwarves in the Blue Mountains." A collective gasp filled the hall. She smiled up at him proud that he felt he no longer had to hide behind another name. Her husband to be's face was filled with awe and surprise.

After the wedding, Thorin's toast meant the world to her, "To a lifetime of happiness for this couple. She's been my closest confidant and counselor. Now that she is married I will face my destiny and take back Erebor. I could have let only the best man marry her. Brin, take care of her for me."

Thorin and company headed out the next day to ask for help in taking back Erebor.

* * *

Author's Note: I'd love to know what you thought of the story!


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